John King, fast talker

Five minutes of election-night coverage on CNN and I reached my limit: John King’s never-stop-to-take-a-breath delivery is unnerving. No more coffee for him.

A Yosemite bug

I called Apple with a problem, and it turns out that I had discovered a Yosemite bug. Call it sempervirens. Here’s how to rediscover it:

Go to System Preferences and click on General.

Click on Highlight color and choose Other.

Whatever custom color you choose, the result will be a pale green.


[Sempervirens.]

When I called Apple, I spoke with two tech-support people. The first went through these steps on her Mac, confirmed the problem, and transferred my call to a higher-level person, who filed the bug. Will it be fixed in OS X 10.10.1? I hope so.

I like Yosemite more and more. Or perhaps I should say that I like a slightly modified Yosemite more and more. Changing the system font back to Lucida Grande and darkening the Dock background with cDock makes the new design more attractive.

*

November 18: I just updated to 10.10.1. The bug’s still there.

*

May 4, 2015: Fixed in 10.10.3. Custom color works in some places and not others. Still broken.

Nathan Heller on Steven Pinker

Nathan Heller writing about Steven Pinker’s The Sense of Style :

It is difficult to shake the suspicion that Pinker’s list of “screwball” rules simply seeks to justify bad habits that certain people would rather not be bothered to unlearn. “Fewer” versus “less”? Do whatever sounds good, Pinker says, but maybe favor “fewer,” if you can, but not because “less” is wrong. Good luck!

I opened The Sense of Style in a bookstore this weekend and landed at the discussion of between you and I. Two pages to argue that it’s not really a mistake, followed by the observation that writers are “well advised” to avoid it. Good luck!

Related posts
McGrath on Pinker on Strunk and White
Pinker on Strunk and White

Some rock islands

[Izumi Masatoshi, Islands (Shima tachi), 2000. Japanese basalt. Art Institute of Chicago.]

Izumi Masatoshi is a sculptor who works in stone. It was only after we got back from Chicago last night that I realized that I could have photographed these “some rocks” from above. Why didn’t I think of that in the museum? Because I am not a photographer. Then again, an aerial view might have made two of these rocks look like one rock, leaving me with a pair of rocks, not “some.”

[“Some rocks” is a fascination that seems to have no end. An explanation may be found in this post.]

Empty case

[A display case that ordinarily houses fragments of luxury vessels, 1st century BCE, 1st century CE. Art Institute of Chicago.]

Is it wrong to take pleasure in a musuem’s empty display cases? Of course not: if it were, I wouldn’t be posting this photograph. I was amused yesterday to see several other museum visitors admiring empty cases. That each of these visitors was perhaps a quarter of my age didn’t trouble me: art, or its absence, is an experience available to all.

This empty display reminded me of a blackboard of course. (See Friday’s post.) The white shapes, which look from a distance like rock shards, are the spaces where the vessel fragments have been removed. Light shines through from behind.

The great reason to visit the Art Institute right now is the exhibition Heaven and Earth: Art of Byzantium from Greek Collections. The exhibition begins with a Head of Aphrodite, its eyes gouged out, its forehead marred by a crude cross. Goodbye, old gods. I was moved by the anonymity of imagination and labor in the works on display: icons, manuscripts, mosaics, textiles. (Only two works, fifteenth-century icons, bear signatures.) My most exciting finds: a thirteenth-century Picasso-like Bowl with Dancer and a fifteenth-century interlinear Iliad.

[There’s no direct link to the Head of Aphrodite. It’s the third item of seven available from the link.]

“Not yet, son of Poeas!”

[“Trick or Treat?” Illustration by Hannah Isabel Gay. October 31, 2014. Used with permission. Click for a larger view.]

What a wonderful thing to step into a classroom and find this illustration on the blackboard. It’s the work of my student Hannah Isabel Gay. Major props, Hannah.

The scene is from the final moments of Sophocles’s Philoctetes. The Greek warrior Philoctetes, son of Poeas, suffers from a foul-smelling, never-healing wound. His fellow Greeks abandoned him on the island of Lemnos as they sailed to Troy. But now, nine years later, the Greeks need Philoctetes and his magic bow (a gift from Heracles) if they are to take Troy. Odysseus and Neoptolemus (Achilles’s son) travel to Lemnos to bring Philoctetes back. But how? By force? persuasion? deceit? And will Neoptolemus go along with Odysseus’s plans? At the play’s end, as Neoptolemus prepares to take Philoctetes home, Heracles appears above the entrance to Philoctetes’s cave and declares that Philoctetes must go to Troy, where his wound will be healed and he will win great honor in battle.

The classicist and director Peter Meineck offers an inspired suggestion: because the actor who played Odysseus would now be playing Heracles, perhaps “Heracles” is Odysseus in disguise, and the divine command just one more Odyssean deception. Treat? Or trick?

And thus this picture.

A related post
Chicago possessives

A WPA Halloween poster

[“Halloween Roller Skating Carnival.” Federal Art Project, New York, 1936. From the Work Projects Administration Poster Collection, Library of Congress. Click for a larger view.]

That’s the friendliest pumpkin-headed roller-skater I’ve ever seen. Happy Halloween.

[The WPA Poster Collection resides here.]

Recently updated

Poor flowers Allen Ginsberg, not stealing, not ripping off.

Know Your Library of Congress Classification Title

It’s the exciting new party-game sensation that’s sweeping my mind: Know Your Library of Congress Classification Title. How to play:

1. Go to the Library of Congress Classification Outline.

2. Find your first initial. Click.

3. Look for your last initial to determine whether you have a one- or two- letter code.

My wife Elaine has a one-letter code: E. There is no EF. Elaine’s LCC title is History of the Americas (America, United States). I have a two-letter code: ML, Literature on music. I remember noticing that code when I was an undergrad borrowing Bill Cole’s biography of Miles Davis from my college’s library. ML, huh.

What’s your LCC title?

[My usual library haunts: P, PA, PE, PR, PS.]

Poor flowers

Poore floure (quoth she) this was thy fathers guise,
Sweet issue of a more sweet smelling sire,
For euerie little griefe to wet his eies,
To grow vnto himselfe was his desire;
    And so tis thine, but know it is as good,
    To wither in my brest, as in his blood.

William Shakepeare, Venus and Adonis, 1593

*

Poor dead flower? when did you forget you were a
    flower? when did you look at your skin and decide
    you were an impotent dirty old locomotive? the
    ghost of a locomotive? the specter and shade of a
    once powerful mad American locomotive?

Allen Ginsberg, “Sunflower Sutra,” 1955

Difficult (at least for me) to think that the phrasing is just coincidence.

Both poems may be found online.

*

October 30: I’m surprised that some readers (elsewhere) have taken the echo to be a question of whether one poet is “ripping off” or ”stealing” from another. Good grief. It’s an echo, a small element in a poem whose precursor is another poem about a flower, William Blake’s “Ah! Sun-flower.”